


I'm Permanent, Now I Won't Go

by GreenAppleSause



Series: The Sadness Crimes Series [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: "Over my dead body" taken literally, (probably), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Am I really the first person to use that?, Angst, Canon-typical Temporary Character Death, Daisy will fight the Lonely single handedly and win, Drowning, Drowning in Blood, Gen, Gun Violence, Hunt!Daisy, Hurt/Comfort, I FOLLOWED UP A MELANIE CENTRIC FIC WITH A DAISY CENTRIC ONE, I did way too much research, Isolation, Late night thought: What if Web and Hunt teamed up?, Loss of Humanity, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy (Broken Heart Syndrome), Temporary Character Death, That's right, Way too much information about how things do or do not smell, Web!Martin, choking on blood, death dream, gun - Freeform, heart failure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 23:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18679255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenAppleSause/pseuds/GreenAppleSause
Summary: It had been too long, and the Archives felt too empty, as far as Daisy was concerned.Sometimes, you just have to take issues into your own hands, Daisy learnt that a long time ago. And working in the Archives, she figured out that Jon wasn't told about having an anchor to save her. Which meant that she was left to save the person that the Web wanted the Archivist to bring back.Besides, keeping your humanity intact wasn't that important? Right?Part 2 ofThe Sadness Crimes Series





	I'm Permanent, Now I Won't Go

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A DARK FIC
> 
> This will include two deaths, and one of them in described and is not pretty. There is also descriptions of bones being broken.
> 
> DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ ABOUT THAT
> 
> If you're okay with that, go a head.

It had been too long, and the Archives felt too empty, as far as Daisy was concerned. Basira was off doing Elias knows what, Melanie was off with the monster - _Helen_ she had to remind herself - and Jon was now diving head first into stopping The Dark’s ritual. Martin was still around, as evidenced by his photo on their wall, his _”Be Back Home Soon”_ lingering underneath the rushed photo.

Jon had freaked out when he saw it, not as aggressively as he had freaked out about the spider on his desk that same morning, but he was still running on adrenaline from that encounter, so it might not have been the most honest of reactions. No one saw him for the rest of the day after that, locking himself in his office after Daisy had removed the spider for him. When she returned to tell him that she had safely placed it outside, as he had told her to, she could have sworn she could hear him crying, so she let him be.

It had been too long since then, and Daisy was getting the itch to hunt again.

She didn’t want to fall back on it, she really didn’t but it felt like she was walking around as half a person sometimes. She was doing far better than she was when she first came out of the coffin, that’s for sure. She could make it up and down the stairs from the Archives, and she spent a lot of time outside now. She spent some time knitting as well, keeping her hands busy with something. Melanie and _Helen_ were the ones who got her the wool and needles, since when she tried, she had a panic attack on the bus. Daisy had made sure not to take the underground, but she wasn’t aware her claustrophobia was that bad.

It confused her, to an extent, since the Archives could be more cramped than the bus had been, but it might had been because the Archives were home. Or as homely as a library of terrors watched over by an eldritch fear god of knowing could be.

Daisy was bored, itching to hunt again, but she did _not_ want to kill anything - or any _one_. That was when she decided, it would be better for all of them if she went and got Martin back.

Now, she knew that going off and doing what she decided was best for them all was exactly what Jon had been doing, and what Basira was doing now, and she _had_ told the both of them to quit that bullshit, but in her defence, she wouldn’t be leaving the Institute grounds if she could help it. It was, objectively, an easy hunt. She knew where the head’s office was, and that was where Martin was, she could _smell_ him up there.

In her time out of the coffin, she had learnt a handful of small things that would probably help her out in her hunt as well.

First was how every entity smelt different to her. Basira and Jon both smelt like old books, and so did she and Melanie to an extent, but not like those two. She remembered that’s what Elias smelt like too, so it had to be the Beholding scent. Melanie smelt mostly of iron, with hints of old library and something else Daisy couldn’t place, which she figured was Helen’s influence. She knew the Hunt smelt like gunpowder, Flesh like raw meat, Buried like earth - a scent Daisy never wanted to smell again - and some others that were important. Like Web smelling like freshly washed linen and Lonely smelt like nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Daisy hated the smell of nothing more than the smell of the earth, if she was honest. And it didn’t help that most of the Institute had lost its old book smell.

The second thing she learnt was how Jon knew how to get her. The tape that gave him the clue smelt like clean linen, and she listened to it, to Jon’s thoughts on it, everything she could. She figured out that the Web hadn’t given it to him to save her, not entirely. The powers, to an extent, had traits that were oddly human, she thought, when she went over as many statements about the Web. The Web was a mother, it valued a family unit, bringing in children. It had younger Avatars, like Annabelle, or Avatars that were around children, like Richard or even the book _A Guest For Mr. Spider_.

She remembered how Martin had always smelt like linen and books, and knew that the Web wanted Jon to have an anchor to get Martin from the Lonely, not to get her from the Buried.

The final thing she figured out was, admittedly, a simple thing. The difference between being touched by a power, and being claimed by it. Basira and Jon were… very much claimed by the Beholding, it was obvious from how they smelled, but also with how they acted. Basira, however, had been touched by the Hunt, she knew, when Basira told her that she didn’t like how Melanie always smelled of blood.

And she knew that she, in turn, had been touched by Beholding. It became more obvious after she signed the papers, essentially selling whatever was left of her soul over to it. She just _knew_ the layout of the entire Institute, what every room was for, how many people were in each room, if she thought about it. The only place she didn’t know, was up towards the top of the main building, the place where there was no scent.

The area where the Nothing was leaking into somewhere it didn’t belong.

* * *

‘How does Jon usually start these things? Not the statement ones, the ones where he does something stupid like jumping into a coffin no one has ever left, or running in the tunnels before he gets framed for the murder of an old man? I’m sorry about that, by the way, Jon, if you find and listen to this, and I don’t see your weird little face again. I’m also sorry for stealing the lighter.

‘I guess you usually explain what you’re doing? That’s as good a place as any to start. Or I could start this as a statement? That makes it easier, I’m used to statements. Not just the types here, but the type that people used to give at the station.

‘Well, statement of former officer Alice Tonner, better known as Daisy, current Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. Wow… that’s the first time I’ve ever said that aloud, not the former officer part, but the assistant part. Anyway, statement about how I, Daisy Tonner, am being an idiot and heading into the Nothing that Peter Lukas and the Lonely are making manifest in the Institute. This is a rescue mission, in a way, to get Martin, our little Webby friend, back where he belongs. Back home in our dark little spooky library.

‘You know, I think I understand why you Archive people are always muttering to yourselves. With how these tape recorders are just always around, how you guys have to feed “Big Brother”, you just get used to voicing your thoughts and knowing someone is at least _listening_ to you. In way you always know you’re not… _alone..._

‘I think that’s going to help me when I go into the Nothing. Not the anchor the Web was saying to have, that’s something else, and something I’m going to hope I got right. I suppose I’ll just update this as I go? That’s what you usually do, right Jon?’

* * *

Daisy spent a few nights staking out the hallway where all the smell started disappearing entirely. It was an oddly comforting experience, she knew that was the Hunt latching its claws into her once more, and she hated how she relaxed into it. But she didn’t have time to think about it too much, she knew that this was different to her time in the coffin. It wasn’t trying to change her, to convert her, not like the Lonely was doing to Martin.

Every now and then, she’d get a brief whiff of clean linen, and that was all she had telling her that Martin hadn’t been fully converted. It was weak, but it was all she had to go on.

Sometimes she’d hear whispers in the back of her mind, similar to how it was when she was on a hunt, telling her how best to take down the target. The voice was different though, distinctly feminine. She couldn’t make it out most of the time, since it was muffled, but she could hear, ‘ **thank you** ,’ and, ‘ **please hurry**.’ It sounded that same kind of sad and hopeful she’d hear from the mothers of missing children.

Melanie had figured out she was up to something when she caught her sneaking into the Archives at some stupid hour in the morning, but she never told Basira or Jon that Daisy had been out, which she was grateful for. She wasn’t sure how she could explain to Jon that he had interpreted the Web’s message wrong, and she didn’t want to tell Basira that Jon was meant to leave her in the coffin.

On the fourth night, she left a note on Melanie’s desk, choosing that night to venture out further into the cold fog that had she’d been watching. It was harder to drag herself up the stairs that night, despite the only change being her plan to do more than just sit and watch. She probably wasn’t ready to head into another entity’s realm so soon after leaving the Buried, but the whispers in the back of her head - both the Hunt and the other voice - told her that she couldn’t leave this much longer.

The first few steps down the hall where the only thing she could feel was the suffocating cold weren’t as bad as she thought they would be, but she also knew it would be worse the further she went. It was only a matter of time before the fog descended all around her.

* * *

‘According to my watch, I’ve been walking down this hall for two hours now. I don’t know if that’s true of out there, but I also know my phone doesn’t work here. I’ve tried every door down this hall, and every single one is locked. I knew this would take a long time but I feel like I’m never going to stop walking down this hallway.

‘I think I figured out who the other voice is though. I think it’s the Web. I’ve likened it to a mother wanting her kidnapped child back, and the Web is also referred to as The Mother of Puppets. I know it might be a stretch if it was just that, circumstantial evidence. But when you add the fact that the Web was the one who told Jon about anchors and that Martin smells like the Web,I think I might be right. It’s also easier to hear her when I hold this stupid lighter.

‘Great, I’m referring to a eldritch fear entity as a mother. I must be losing my mind here…

‘I also sometimes smell Martin. It’s stronger than it was when I started walking, so I know I’m not just pointlessly walking. It’s a small comfort. Not much of one, but it’s better than nothing. I just hope it doesn’t take as long to get him out as it does to get to him.

‘I know this is going to get worse the closer I get to Martin. I don’t feel the crippling isolationism I’m expecting to feel just yet, and I… I really, _really hate_ feeling alone at the moment, after being in the coffin… the pit… whatever we’re calling it.

‘I’ll try check in again in another two hours, or if anything interesting happens.’

* * *

It was three hours in that the voice Daisy had always known and the voice she had accepted was the Web both yelled at her to turn left, just as she caught scent of jasmine and fresh linens. No one had to tell her twice, and she quickly went to open the door she could barely make out through the fog that had settled in about half an hour before hand. Police training had really been helpful, the muscle memory of how to enter rooms with possibly hostile inhabitants kicking in as if she didn’t know any other way to enter a room. Somewhere, deep down, she was glad that she had been part of the SCO19, something she guessed the Hunt had some hand in. She felt far more comfortable having a weapon on her, since wasn’t like Melanie, she couldn’t just… _have one_.

Busting the locked door open was the easy part, the hard part was stepping over the threshold. The human part of her felt the seeping feeling of loneliness flooding into the hallway from the other side of the now open door. It felt empty and crushing as made her way forward, not too dissimilar to the feeling inside the coffin, except from the fact that she could breathe this time.

Daisy knew that if she was a normal human, or was actively pushing the Hunt, she would have broken down some time ago. She could feel her cheeks stinging with tears she wasn’t entirely aware she was shedding, occasionally tasting salt. Despite the general feeling of nothing, and barely being able to see past her hand, there was the occasional whisper from one of the entities that had latched on to her, and the fleeting scent of linens in the distance.

* * *

‘Well, I don’t think we’re in the Institute anymore, Toto. I don’t know how Martin can work in this place everyday… or maybe he doesn’t know he does and this is just here to stop him leaving when he doesn’t need to. And probably to keep us out.

‘I don’t know if this is better or worse than the coffin. On the upside, I can breathe and move around, which is definitely better than the coffin by a long shot. But on the other hand… it just feels so empty. At least in the coffin I could miss Basira, and my mum, and miss watching _The Wizard of Oz_ and I knew that being buried alive could kill you and _how_ it could kill you. Loneliness is something I’m only pretty sure can kill you, and I have no idea how if it can.

‘According to my watch it’s three in the morning, but we all know that time can be pretty distorted in these kind of places. There was that lady who complained about Jon, who ended up in this kind of place, right? She was lost in this place for what? Twelve hours? I probably should have packed water or food or _something_. Instead I just have a tape recorder, a lighter, a pistol, and two fear entities.

‘For some reason, whenever I record, it feels… better, I suppose. It doesn’t feel like this fog is as heavy as it is when I’m not recording. Maybe it grounds me back to the Archives, back to Jon, since these things got us out of the coffin…

‘Holy shit… I just remembered that I smelt Martin after we got out! How did he get down there? Surely he didn’t have to trek through… this… _right_? I really hope he didn’t. I’m struggling and I’ve been through this sort of this before, I was trained for this after being sectioned, and I’m not rejecting my entity.

‘The more I think about what might be happening to Martin, what Peter might be trying to do, I get worried. It couldn’t be anything good, these powers don’t mess with each other too much unless they are planning on something… I need to stop thinking like this. I’ll end up in that Beholding wormhole that Jon and Basira have gotten themselves into.

‘This new area after that door I broke through is very difficult to make my way though. It feels wider than a hallway, and I can barely see past my hand, and my visibility is just getting worse the further in I go. Makes me think that Jon might have been right to get me out now? Not that I doubt he would have been able to get him out, he got me out. I can just tell that my sense of smell is helping me out a lot here. It isn’t comforting in anyway. It‘s forcing me to realise that I’m just as monstrous as those that I killed in the past - just as much of a monster as Jon.

‘Well, maybe not _as much_ as Jon, I haven’t had a near death experience that forces me to decide if my humanity is worth my life, but…

‘Let’s just say I won’t be surprised if I come out of this significantly less human…’

* * *

Daisy lost visibility not long before five am. Everything around her was just grey fog and nothingness. She wasn’t sure she was even walking on the ground anymore. The only thing keeping her grounded was the tightness of the holster on her thigh and the weight of the recorder’s strap around her wrist. She knew it was nearing the time for her next check in, if her watch was still accurate. 

The only thing she could think of was keeping her breathing steady. If there was _something_ in this fog, she didn’t want to alert it when she couldn’t see her own feet.

The Web spoke in the back of her head. ‘ **The lighter** ,’ it said, ‘ **Bring him home**.’

Nodding to herself, she pulled out the lighter, flipping the lid and lighting it. It felt like the flame’s light reached further than it should have, but Daisy could see the floor now. With a deep breath, she held her arm out and continued walking in the direction she last smelt Martin.

The chill had long since penetrated her jacket, only now starting to get worse. Her left hand, the one holding the lighter, was just fine, but her right was starting to feel colder, her fingertips turning white from the lack of circulation. But she couldn’t focus on that. Those moments where she can smell Martin are getting closer together and stronger, and she couldn’t stop just because she was slowly losing feeling in her hand.

* * *

‘I have to believe I’m almost there. It’s five in the fucking morning, which means at least one person in the Archives is awake by now - probably Jon, if I’m honest - and means Basira is going to have my hide when I get back. And I _will_ get back.’

‘ **Close, Huntress. Soon**.’

‘What the… That wasn’t in my head that time. I don’t know if this thing picked that up, but the Web definitely told me I’m getting close. I don’t know how it can see in here. Maybe through the lighter? Or Martin. Maybe it’s both. I don’t know, I don’t pretend to understand how the Web works. I’m part of the Hunt and work for the Beholding and I don’t understand how either of them really work.

‘This lighter is definitely keeping me grounded right now, though. So, I’m no longer sorry for taking it, Jon. 

‘...

‘Hold on, I smell something… Yep, that’s linen, it’s weaker than I remember, but that’s Martin - linens and old books. And… I can see a door! I can finally get out of this foggy hellscape.

‘...

‘Martin, come on let me in.’

‘... Daisy?’

‘Yes. Now open this door before I have to bust it down. I have already busted down one door this morning to get to you, and I am _very willing_ to do it again.’

* * *

It was a few minutes before Daisy got tired of waiting for Martin to opened the door and she started ramming into it to bust it open. For some reason though, it felt sturdier than the one at the other end of the foggy Nothing she was in.

‘ **Gun**.’

Knowing that, so far, the Web’s advice was advice to be followed, she put the lighter back in her pocket to shoot the frosted glass of the door, cracking it enough for her to punch her cold numbed hand through to unlock it from the inside.

Opening the door, tape recorder in one hand, the other bloodied with a gun, Daisy sighed. ‘I have been walking for about six hours to get to you, I just wanted you to know that.’

Martin stared at her with wide eyes, looking behind her to the grey abyss she had walked through. ‘What… is that?’

‘The Nothing, the Realm of the Lonely, I don’t know or particularly care at this point. All I know is I probably would have died in there if it wasn’t for my… eldritch backup?’

Closing the door, Daisy leaned against it, absently looking at her bleeding hand. ‘You have any bandages?’

‘Of course, they’re here. Do you want some help with that?’ Martin flustered around, helping Daisy with her hand before she could even respond to his question. ‘Why are you here anyway, I thought you’d be in the Archives with Basira.’

‘Broke up,’ Daisy muttered, wincing slightly as Martin tied off the bandage a little to tight. 

‘Why would she do that?’

She shook her head, ‘I broke up with her. She… she wanted me to be something I wasn’t anymore after I came out of the coffin. Not that we were really even together at that point, since I had been in the coffin.’

After making sure Daisy was alright, Martin sat back in his chair, ‘Well, it was good to see you, but you need to leave now. I can’t have visitors.’

‘Nice try buddy, but you’re coming back home. Soon is over, and we need you back in the Archives,’ she told him, taking her gun out again. ‘I will walk you out of here like a common criminal.’

Martin shook his head. ‘You don’t understand, I have to do this to save the Archives. I have to be Lonely, and you have no idea what that-’

‘I was buried alive for eight months! I walked six hours through the Lonely to get to you, and I would have died in there if it weren’t for the Hunt and Web. I think I know a thing or two about being alone. I have felt alone in a full room. I struggle to be alone in a room without having flashbacks and panic attacks. If you think you have been _alone_ working here and doing paperwork, you have _no idea_ what it’s like!’

Daisy was yelling by the end, the forgotten tears streaking down her face again as she leaned over Martin’s desk, towering over him. ‘You can’t help people you never see, Martin. You might think you’re helping from here, but you’re not.’

‘Daisy… you need to leave before Peter gets here. If he sees you here-’

Martin was cut off again as Peter Lukas entered. ‘Martin, why is the door brok- oh, hello Ms Tonner, may I ask what you are doing here? Martin needs to be alone to focus.’

Turning sharply enough to cause her shoes to creak on the polished wood floor, Daisy glared at the old man. Not only did she hate the fact that she couldn’t smell him coming, but the Web was screaming in the back of her head, ‘ **Keep him away! Wrong! Perverse!** ’

‘Someone tells me what you’re doing with him is wrong. Whatever you’re trying to do, it’s…’ she trailed off. She didn’t know exactly what Peter was trying to do, but she knew, deep down, not just from the Web, that it was disgusting even to the entities.

Peter stayed quiet as for a while after Daisy stopped talking. ‘Converting a someone touched by a power to an Avatar of another. It’s common, even your Detective was Hunt touched before she became the Detective, wasn’t she?’

‘That’s not what you’re doing though, is it.’ It wasn’t a question. Everything came together after that. ‘This is about your ritual.’

The old man shook his head, laughing lightly. ‘I should have known the Huntress would have known what Martin was. Yes, this is about my patron’s ritual. We failed not that long ago, and we know that we shouldn’t be able to do it again for some hundred years.

‘However, there is a way to speed up the ritual. If you have an incomplete Avatar of an opposing power, things are far easier.’

Martin, confused, piped up from behind Daisy, ‘A what now?’

‘What you’re doing is _perverted_! You’re trying to _convert an Avatar to another power_!’ Daisy was yelling, the Web screaming in anger and the Hunt is disgust. She wanted to throw up, she knew that what he was doing was against nature, even the nature of eldritch fear gods.

‘What I’m _doing_ , young Huntress, is what anyone should be willing to do for their patron,’ he countered. ‘We should be willing to do whatever we have to to bring them into power. Even your precious Archivist is bringing in other powers to help with his own rituals, and to stop others before he’s ready, even if he doesn’t know that’s his goal.

‘You, the Executioner, the Mortician, and the Distortion; all other powers working under the Archivist. I just happened to take one from him, and took the most useful one to help my patron. And if I can turn him, nothing will be able to stop us.’

All Daisy could think to do was pick up her gun from the desk and shooting it Lukas, hoping that it would make him hurt. ‘Y̷̛͈̘͂͗͂ơ̴͎̼̺u̶͉͋͠ ̵̙̼̾ç̶̂̚a̷̫̼͋n̷̤̰̯̤̓̅̍ ̴̱͇̖̐͝͝h̶͍̯̔̏͊a̴̱̻̙̓r̵̢͉̳̓̋͠m̶̻̊̇͗ ̵̺̖̈̇͝m̸͓̬̐̇y̶̮̌ ̷̖̠̑̔̓ͅp̵̻̽̇̄ạ̵̤̖̽̉c̸̰̙͖̲͋̊̉͝k̸̨̺͚̇ ̶̙̋̅ _ȯ̵̬͕͇v̷̹̺̐̅e̶͎̐͛͜͜r̶̝̓̒̄͆ ̴̹̑̋m̸͇͇͆̿y̶͇̭͑͝ ̷͖̟̰̼̎ḑ̷̛͉̲͊̏̕e̸̖̺̖̙̾̊̚ą̵͉̈̐̐̽d̴̤̫̟̈̈́̀̏ͅ ̴̨̩͖͙͆̌b̸͖̥̄͆̽̚o̸͖͉͍͌͐̈́͗d̷̝̐̌ͅy̸͎͌_!’

The words came out garbled, and Martin could see _something_ changing about Daisy. It wasn’t something physical, but he could see _something_ different around her.

Her tape recorder was still recording, picking up Martin’s panicking and the gunshots going off as Peter calmly but hurriedly dodged the two bullets that came after the one that struck him in the clavicle. Avatars may be able to regenerate at a stupid rate, but Daisy had killed monsters before, and she wasn’t giving up on this.

Peter, despite being unarmed, made very little effort to avoid Daisy, approaching her like she didn’t have a gun and her eyes weren’t reflecting light in a way that was unnatural for humans. 

‘Hunters should really be careful that they don’t become the pray.’ Daisy felt the hand on her wrist for a brief moment before she was being spun around and on the ground. As her gun was twisted down quickly, she screamed, her finger breaking. Martin yelled as Daisy growled up at Peter Lukas. ‘After all, they often forget that they are not the ones in power.’

Before taking her gun, Lukas broke Daisy’s wrist. She could hear Martin’s heartbeat rising to an unsafe level, but before she could tell him to calm down, Peter spoke again.

‘What was it you said? _”Over my dead body”_ ”?’

That was when the final shot rang out, and Daisy felt the bullet break through her throat. Coughs wrecked her body as he began to choke on her own blood. ‘ **Seven minutes** ,’ she heard the Web tell her.

Martin’s breaths came in faster and shorter, and that’s was when she heard it, over the spilling of her blood. A small _pop_ before he collapsed next to her.

‘Oh, Martin, that’s disappointing,’ the old man sighed as he left the office. ‘I hope you were far enough along…’

Daisy could barely see as the door closed, leaving her to bleed out while Martin went into cardiac arrest not two meters from her.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was the tape recorder stop.

* * *

_  
‘ **I’m surprised this was how you went out, Huntress, but I am thankful.** ’_

_Daisy sat up, hands immediately flying to her throat, feeling the flesh of it blown out. ‘Web?’_

_‘ **Yes, Huntress. Most of us don’t like to talk to even our own, let alone those of other powers, but you saved my Weaver before he was lost, and for that I must thank you**.’_

_Daisy couldn’t see where the voice was coming from, it was both in her head and aloud in the strange dark forest she found herself in._

_‘I guess I have to choose now. Die mostly human or come back as something that is definitely not human,’ she asked, standing up despite the still weeping wound._

_‘ **That is a simple way to put it, and every Avatar experiences this differently. My Weaver is looking for his way out, and if he does not find it quickly, he will die. You must find your pray before you may leave this forest**.’_

_Daisy nodded, hand reaching for the gun she no longer had. ‘Well, thank you Web. Martin is part on my pack now, and if we both make it through this, I’ll protect him.’_

_‘ **Go, Huntress. I will watch over you and lend my aid if you so need it after this**.’_

_With that, Daisy closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, trying to find whatever was her pray in this place. Once she had the scent, she ran weaving through the trees._

_It felt like she was running for days, the same trees passing her by over and over. Despite running for so long, she never felt the tiring she would have. Perhaps that was because she was dead, perhaps it was because she wasn’t human anymore. Whatever it was, she didn’t stop until she saw what had to be her prey, a creature with the legs of a tarantula, the body of a lion, head of a wolf, and tail of a snake._

_Without any hesitation in her mind, she knew that this was the Hunt. ‘Hello there, Hunt?’_

_The creature turned to face her, long tongue sticking out, smelling her. ‘ ~~Hello, Cub. It is not often one of are able to find me, let alone get this close without trying kill me. It seems the Mother and Watcher have contacted you as well~~.’_

_She nodded and kneeled. ‘I understand I have a choice. How do I make it?’_

_‘ ~~The Watcher has influenced you indeed, you get straight to the point. As you have a contract with the Ceaseless Watcher, I feel a riddle will be sufficient to prove yourself to me to become a true Huntress~~.’_

_‘Hit me.’_

_‘ ~~I am free for the taking through all your life, though given but once at birth. I am less than nothing in weight, but will fell the strongest of you if held~~.’_

_Again feeling her neck as she thought, Daisy struggled for sometime. Until she felt the air passing through her throat._

_‘Breath. The answer is breath,’ she told the creature._

_It smiled at her, its tongue smelling her again. ‘ ~~You are a smart one. Take care of your pack with that brain of yours. And I will contact you again, Alessandra, Huntress of the Archives~~.’  
_

* * *

‘Ow… okay, breathing still hurts. Hey Toto, I see you’ve turned on again.

‘Oh, looks like Martin hasn’t woken up yet. I can hear him breathing though, so the Web must still be helping him out. That reminds me, I will have to do a whole separate statement about my time while I was dead. And I _was_ dead. I wonder how long I was out?

‘The computer says five days? Oh god, Jon and Basira are going to kill me… Wait, only Hunters can kill fully realised Avatars. Well, it’s nice knowing I’m basically immortal now.

‘Alright, time to carry the Webby boy down to the Archives. Hopefully it isn’t the foggy hellscape out there and there are no actual people.’

* * *

Lucky for Daisy, it was after closing in this Institute, and her trip down to the Archives was quick and uninterrupted.

‘Honey, I’m home,’ she shouted as she opened the door to the Archive.

Jon was the only person in the Archive, rushing out to see Daisy. ‘Daisy, what do you think you were doing? Wait… is that…?’

She nodded as she walked past him, laying Martin down on the break room couch. ‘Yeah, we both died up there. I’ll give my statement in a few days. I think I have to get used to being…’

‘A Hunter?’ Jon asked, not taking his eyes off Martin.

‘My title is officially ‘The Huntress of The Archives” but yeah. The Hunt gave that to me specifically.

‘The whole thing is on Toto here, by the way.’

‘Toto?’

Daisy laughed before coughing. ‘Right, still healing. But yeah, Toto. I kinda named the tape recorder while walking through the Lonely.’

Jon couldn’t help but laugh at that a little. ‘Well, I’ll listen to it later.’

* * *

‘Supplemental. What Daisy recorded, and what she elaborated when ask, shows something terrible was happening in the Institute.

‘With some thought, Peter Lukas must have chosen to use Martin to try and jump start his next ritual attempt by converting an incomplete Avatar of the Web to and Avatar of the Lonely to use the Web’s ability to manipulate people.

‘We know from statement 0161301 that Peter Lukas has manipulated people before, Naomi Herne to be specific, but that was one person, and only to make her leave and be alone. The thought that he could have amplified that ability using Martin makes me uneasy in a way I don’t want to think about.

‘Martin woke up a few hours, and I have not yet gotten his statement, as he is still recovering. Turns out his cause of death was takotsubo cardiomyopathy, caused by the sudden increase in extreme stress responses, and is better known as Broken Heart Syndrome.

‘I am, however, glad to say that Peter’s plan was unsuccessful, and the Web did, in fact, claim him. Although, the eight eyes is something I’m not entirely happy about.

‘Daisy’s recording did also enlighten us to something. The entities can interact with other power’s Avatars, and can also be recorded.

‘I don’t know what this means but-’

‘Hey Jon.’

‘Martin! You should still be resting.’

‘It takes a normal human a month to recover from this. I spent eight days sleeping it off and I’m not human anymore. I think I’m allowed to be up and about.’

‘You d-’

‘Don’t have my eyes? I know you don’t like spiders, so I closed them. Didn’t want to freak you out too much.’

‘I was going to say you didn’t have to bring me tea…’

‘Oh… Well, I figured some routine might help us all get used to all the changes. And I figured you might want some?’

‘Yeah… Thank you, Martin. I… I missed you… being here, in the Archives, I mean…’

‘Heh… I missed you too, Jon. I hated it, working for Peter. And seeing him… to Daisy… At least Elias never made any of us watch him kill Leitner, you know?’

‘Do you… want to make a statement about it? Or just talk about it? Daisy said that helped her, after the coffin. We didn’t record it, we just… talked.’

‘You can record my statement after you take a break - out of this office - and drink your tea. And then I’ll tell you everything that happened while I was working for the Lonely. How’s that?’

‘That… that actually sounds good.

‘Alright Toto. End supplemental.’

**Author's Note:**

> Minor headcanon of mine is that Daisy's full name is Alessandra Elizabeth Tonner, but she couldn't say Alessandra when she was little, so it was shortened to Alice.
> 
> Anyway, if you want to yell at me about this, do it below or on Twitter at [@greenapplecos](https://twitter.com/greenapplecos).


End file.
